


driving you away

by Pomfry



Series: 700 followers drabbles [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Break Up, Insecurity, Introspection, Lack of Communication, M/M, Miscommunication, Yes i am back to my roots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: Jon’s hugs feel like freedom, his kisses taste like fresh strawberries, something you can never get in Gotham. His eyes are the color of the summer sky, his hands smooth without the work he does. He’s kind and stubborn and - perfect.Compared to him, Damian knows he’s the epitome of undesirable.





	driving you away

Jon is loose-limbed, free. His smile is the sun shining down on a spring day, his laugh like bells and Damian can’t help but admire him as they sit on the roof of their school. He has this charm about him, something like a breath of fresh air in this smog ridden world, and Damian can’t help but think that, maybe, he shouldn’t be here with Damian. Jon is meant to fly, to make others laugh and smile and bring hope to everyone around him. Why he stays with Damian when Damian is stuck in the ground, knee deep and trapped, he will never know.

Jon’s hugs feel like freedom, his kisses taste like fresh strawberries, something you can never get in Gotham. His eyes are the color of the summer sky, his hands smooth without the work he does. He’s kind and stubborn and -  _ perfect. _

Compared to him, Damian knows he’s the epitome of undesirable. Damian is rough, made of jagged edges and broken dreams. His hands are tough from years of training, of beatings, and his knuckles are crooked, bent out of place. There’s scars on his chest, one over his heart that shows just how he died, once upon a time. His eyes are the color of the Lazarus Pit, of poison and something that eats at the mind until you’re no longer yourself.  His lips are dry, cracked from nights speeding over the city with the wind in his face. His laugh is dry, impossibly rough from years of not doing it and never learning how to do it properly. His smile is strained, never able to make it past a simple upturn of the lips.

Damian is callous, offbeat to everything around him. He walks on a line that’s slightly different than everyone else’s. Something Grayson finds acceptable he does not and vice versa. He’s too blunt, too dry, too slightly off for people to be comfortable with him.

“What are you thinking of?” Jon asks, knocking his shoulder with him playfully as he snatches some food from Damian’s lunch box.

Damian shrugs, not wanting to ruin to the atmosphere. He knows that his mindless musing is uncommon, something not done. Grayson calls it brooding, but - Damian doesn’t think it is. It’s more that he’s contemplating, deep in his mind, and -

Jon presses his lips to his cheek, and Damian jerks. The line of his smile is sad, like he knows exactly what Damian is thinking of, and Damian’s cheeks warm as he ducks his head.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jon says, as though he’s reminding Damian of that. And - Damian knows that he can. He knows it like he knows that years ago he broke his spine, that he died and he walked over coals at five years old trying not to shed a tear.

“I know,” he says, quietly, and Jon tilts his head, the wind rustling his hair. Damian’s breath catches in his throat. The sun is hitting Jon’s hair just right, making it seem like crow feathers, and his face has freckles on it, born from drawing his energy from the star that gives this planet life. Jon is beautiful, unattainable. He could have anyone in this world if he desired. And yet - he chooses to stay with someone as broken as Damian.

He never claimed to understand Jon.

“Okay,” Jon says, and falls silent, clearly thinking something over. Damian just hopes that it doesn’t pertain to topics that upset him. He doesn’t want Jon to be upset, doesn’t want him to be angry. He just - he wants him to be happy. He wants him to not be miserable or furious or any of those negative emotions.

Damian knows how to play him like a fiddle, knows how to distract him and make him content. He doesn’t know how to handle him when he’s furious at  _ Damian _ because - because he never wanted to learn. And that’s his failing, he knows, but -

He never wanted to learn. And he thinks that’s okay.

 

\--

 

Jon is breathtaking when he’s angry. His eyes flash, stormy blue with just the right amount of personal anguish to make it a tragedy instead of frightening. His feet rise off the ground, his voice booms. His punches crack the very earth beneath him, his shouts separate the heavens. There’s a snarl to his lips, a growl in his tone, and everyone cowers before him. He’s more powerful than his father, with a will that’s twice as strong, and Damian counts himself lucky that he’s able to see it.

Now, though -

Now he wishes he wasn’t. Because Jon is screaming at him, crying, and Damian is lost, adrift in a sea he doesn’t know how to navigate. He never learned, never took the lessons, and  _ he doesn’t know what to do. _

“Why won’t you just  _ trust me?” _ Jon shouts, tears in his eyes, and Damian opens his mouth to speak, closes it

_ I do, _ he thinks weakly, wishing that he knew how to calm Jon down.  _ I trust you with my heart and my life and my mind.  _

“Because,” he says, and cuts himself off as Jon’s face grows cold, grows tight. Damian doesn’t do anything, letting his rage wash over him with something close to disconnect. He’s always been a masochist, he thinks. Always would rather let himself be cut rather than hurt. And this - this is one of the worst cuts yet.

“I trust you with everything,” Jon says, very nearly pleading with him to understand, and Damian almost collapses to the ground. “So why won’t you trust  _ me?” _

Damian doesn’t know what they were doing before they both were caught up in this whirlwind of a fight, and he doesn’t want to remember. All he can see is Jon’s eyes, furious and hurt, and his back hits the wall as he takes a step back.

Jon snarls at him, clearly recognizing the surrender, and storms out. Damian slides down to the floor, stunned quiet, and pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face in his legs.

Of course he would ruin this. Of course he would. Jon is too good for him, too - well, everything. He’s too good for Damian, too kind, and a sob gets stuck in Damian’s throat as tears burn his eyes.

Their apartment is bursting with life, traces of Jon all around him and little of him. It’s silent now. Dead and gone, just like Jon.

Damian chokes on the cry that rises in his throat and doesn’t scream.

Everything he touches is ruined, destroyed. Everything.

Perhaps Jon was lucky he left before he was able to die too.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a discord for my fics if you want to join! Go my Tumblr NikeScaret.tumblr.com you'll be able to find the link!


End file.
